


Baking 101

by ShaneDarkwin



Series: Pick Up The Pieces [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Micah being a dad, Post-Canon, Some Humor, baking!, catra being a recovering lesbian, it's kind of crack but not if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaneDarkwin/pseuds/ShaneDarkwin
Summary: A sleepless Micah finds a lost kitten messing around in the castle's kitchen. He does the only reasonable thing: teach Catra the basics of baking.Fluff with angsty elements because i headcannon these two to get along splendidly and Catra deserves a loving mentor/parental figure.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Series: Pick Up The Pieces [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811896
Comments: 14
Kudos: 214





	Baking 101

**Author's Note:**

> this headcannon would not leave my head until i wrote it down. quite happy with how it turned out. disclaimer: everything i know about baking i taught myself and i can't vouch for my methods. 
> 
> this might be the first installment in a series of one-shots where micah dads-out and teaches adora and catra basic skills they never gained in the horde because i can and i need the fluffy goodness. let me know if anyone would be interested in that. 
> 
> enjoy, stay safe, stay safe <3

Though it was far past midnight, the long corridors of the castle were lit in a soft glow that made them almost bright. Outside the castle's walls, the night was basked in the light of a million stars mixing into the blueish shimmer of the moon stone. Some nights Bright Moon's king could fool himself into believing it was because of this new brightness that he found it difficult to sleep, that all those nights spent under an unforgiving and dark sky made it hard for him to adjust to these new conditions. 

Tonight was not one of those. 

Like every time the truth threatened to engulf him, tear him down and devour him whole, Micah took to wandering the castle's, _his_ castle's halls. It usually rid his mind of the thoughts he tried to flee, his body taking over and steering him through the winding paths they still knew so well. Occasionally, he would find himself lost in a sudden dead end or at a crossroads where Angella had remodelled the space in his years of absence (it still felt strange to admit that was how long he was gone). 

Tonight, his legs carried him towards nowhere in particular again when he heard a faint clanging from within deeper in the building. Micah stopped in his tracks, eyes flicking between the corridor in front of him and the one to his right. Curiosity won him over and he wandered down the right one. 

The noise grew louder the farther down he ventured, and Micah gravitated towards it like a moth drawn to a flame. His search led him to the kitchen, service entrance door ajar, light falling onto the floor through the crack. The room had been quiet for a few moments now and Micah halted, keeping the option of an unseen getaway open just in case when a frustrated groan sounded from within. It was followed by muffled complaining and an exceptionally adorable sneeze. He inched closer, careful not to step into view, and eavesdropped. 

"-perfectly capable of doing this by myself."

After more clanging of metal against marble, there was an offended huff. 

"We've been over this, Melog, she doesn't -" The voice faded as the person behind the door receded into the room and Micah shifted in hopes of catching the end of the sentence. Instead, he lost his balance, leaning into the door to steady himself and it slowly swung open, drenching him in golden light, successfully rendering him blind for a split second. 

The kitchen's occupant hissed as he stumbled into view with a "Sorry!" and when his eyes started working again a second later, he found himself face to face with a startled Catra. To her left stood her companion/pet Melog, looking about ready to pounce on the apologetic king who was raising his hands appeasingly. 

"I am so sorry, I did not mean to intrude," Micah confessed and watched as Catra's ears flicked, tail still rigid but something like relief washing over her face. Melog's stance loosened, mane adapting a soft blue shine as opposed to the red it had held a moment ago. 

Micah's eyes darted between his daughter's friend and the counter separating them. It was clad in a vast array of kitchen utensils and ingredients. He could make out several pots and pans stacked atop each other, among them a single springform, a handful of wooden spoons sprawled over a whisk and three spatulas, a rolling pin sitting in a measuring cup haphazardly balanced on a small wall of boxes of what he could only assume was flour. One of them had split open at the bottom, spilling its dusty contents over the side of the counter and onto the floor. Poor Melog had some of it stuck to their back as well. 

Catra had noticed his not-so-subtle glances and Micah could see the heat rising to her cheeks when he looked back at her. 

"I'm fine, it's fine!" she snapped before he even had the chance to say anything and then her ears flattened against her head, suddenly embarrassed. Shoulders dropping, she hung her head. Micah remembered that look. He'd seen it in his little girl countless times back when… well, back when she was still his little girl. 

"Sure looks like an undertaking you've got planned here," Micah said and stepped up to the mess. He surveyed the ingredients piled up in front of him, keeping his attention deliberately away from Catra. "May I ask what-" 

"Pie," Catra answered the question before Micah could finish. She had her arms wrapped around herself in a tight hug and Melog was circling her legs. Micah didn't understand a whole lot about Melog's origins; Glimmer had tried to explain it to him before, but he had gotten so enraptured in the fact that this was his daughter, telling him about space and strange planets and magic, magic she had discovered without him, magic she'd once shared with… She had laughed then, ' _Are you even listening, Dad?'_ and he had hugged her close to chest. 

"I, uh, didn't mean to disturb your sleep," Catra said, pulling Micah back to reality. Melog bowed his head and Micah remembered something about them being linked to Catra's emotions and that's when it clicked. He looked up at her as she turned and mumbled: "I'll try be more quiet." 

"May I help?" The words escaped him without much thought behind them, just an overwhelming urge to do- what exactly, he didn't know, but Micah just had to _do._

Catra froze at his question, back still turned. Then she scoffed. When she faced him again, one of her brows was raised, smirk perfectly in place. The air of insecurity enveloping her just a minute ago had gone without a trace. "No offense, your Majesity, but _how_ would you help me?" 

After his return and subsequent retaking of power as King of Bright Moon, that's what everyone addressed him as: "King Micah", "Your Majesity", "Your Highness". Everyone except for the smug feline. Where his insistence was met with dutiful politeness and awkward grins by most, Catra had only shrugged a _'Yeah, whatever works for you'_ and smirked her way right into Micah's heart. Hearing the title out of her mouth now was the kind of cutting irony Micah knew to appreciate. 

Two could play this game. 

"Guess you will have to find out, because whether you like it or not, I am hereby ordering you to let me assist you in baking this pie." 

Catra crossed her arms over her chest and muttered something along the lines of "Like father, like daughter" but didn't object. Melog nuzzled their head against Micah's hands and like that, it was settled. 

* * *

As it turned out, Catra had been cluelessly messing around for some time already. She had gotten so far as to produce a clumpy mass of dough that was now sulking away in a bowl, hidden behind an impressively high tower of boxes identical to one another safe for their labels. If her grumbled explanation was anything to go by, the sad lump was the reason for her sour temper and when Micah cautiously sampled it, he understood why. 

"Woah, okay, yeah," he tried, and failed, to suppress a gag, "that _is_ horrible. What did you -?" 

"I followed the dumb recipe!" Catra shot back, wrapping her arms tighter around herself as a blush crept into her cheeks. Maybe Micah imagined it but he could swear her fangs were more prominent than usual as she spoke. He made a mental note to go about this a tad more gently. For his own sake. 

"We'll just start over new, no problem," he offered, already moving the bowl to the other side of the room. "I've got just the thing in mind."

In a shared effort they cleared the spacious counter off everything unnecessary to their cause, until they were left with a handful of ingredients and a bare minimum of kitchenware. It looked much less intimidating already and once they were done, Catra seemed a bit more relaxed. 

"You're going to want to measure your ingredients first before mixing it all together," Micah explained. He figured clear instructions would be the safest way to go and the quiet nod he received confirmed his suspicion. Between him listing what was needed and Catra doing the actual handiwork, they soon assumed a comfortable and concentrated silence. That was until the recipe he recounted off his head called for sugar, and Micah spied a box reading definitely not sugar in Catra's hand. 

"Um," he said and Catra blinked at him. "Yes?" "Well, I said sugar, and you're holding salt." "So?" "So?! That's… Catra, you know they're not substitutes for one another, right?" 

When her ears shrank back into her scruffy hair and her nose twitched involuntarily, Micah sighed. Which was a mistake. 

"How would I know the difference?! The boxes look the exact same, the thing in them looks the exact same, they even smell the same! It's not like we ever learned to do this in the Horde, all we ever had there was ration bars and they all tasted bland and varying degrees of ' _ew_ '. And then the space food was just weird, and-" Catra cut herself short when Melog nudged her side. She blinked again, something resembling remorse dawning on her face as she realised how loud her voice had grown. Whether it was because she just raised her voice at a member of the royal family or something more personal, Micah couldn't be entirely sure, but judging by the conversations he'd overheard between her and Glimmer he would put his money on the latter. 

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, setting down the box, but Micah waved it off. 

"Don't worry, when Glimmer was little she would sometimes throw tantrums that had my ears ringing for hours on end." 

That earned him a perk of ears and the mischievous expression returned to Catra's eyes. Micah thought he could live with a little scorn of Glimmer if that meant he was cheering up this little cat. 

"But I think it's elementary you learned to distinct these two," he intercepted before Catra pried into Glimmer's childhood temper more. Grabbing a box of sugar and a spoon, he set two little pinches of each onto the counter before them. 

"They may look and smell the same," he explained father-of-the-yearly, "but they definitely do not taste alike. Try." 

With the inexperienced curiosity of a child, Catra lowered her head to the counter and, before Micah could intervene, licked the small pile of crystals. Micah winced as Catra jerked back, squealing and spitting and stumbling backwards over Melog who didn't expect a reaction of this magnitude. And though he felt genuinely sorry for the shocked and gagging girl on the floor, Micah couldn't help but laugh. He laughed as Catra rubbed at her tongue to rid herself of the stinging taste, and he laughed as he stepped past Melog to pull her up from the ground. And it was in laughing that he missed the embarrassed look on Catra's face and how it shifted into confusion when she took notice of the lack of malevolence in the sound he made. How the confusion drained away once she was on her feet again, smoothing out the fur of her tail, eyes widening in amazement at the purity of that laugh. When Micah wiped a single tear from his eye, breathing hard still, the smallest smile stole its way onto her lips. 

* * *

Lesson learned, the two continued on their quest to make a pie. With all ingredients ready, Micah resumed his role as teacher and explained that mixing them together was the greatest trick in baking. Under his careful instruction, Catra merged and tinkered and splashed to her heart's content. Micah shared his wisdoms with her, and though Catra had no clue as to why she was melting the butter instead of just throwing it in fair and square, or why she suddenly had to switch out the milk for oil, she enjoyed the passion in his voice. The feeling of togetherness that came with knowing he was sharing a part of his life, no matter how small that may be, with _her_. There was also a pang of jealousy and sadness at the realisation that this is what Glimmer could have had, what Catra could have had in her life if it hadn't been for the Horde, but she acknowledged it and let that thought drift down the stream of her consciousness (a method Perfuma had taught her in her meditation circle and Catra insisted was a waste of time). 

"And now?" "Now you get to baking." 

Micah shuffled through a drawer and pulled out a springform pan, but faltered when he saw the crease in Catra's brow. 

"What is it?" 

"I, uh, kind of need that to be smaller. Like, much smaller."

More shuffling. 

"Like this?" 

"Smaller."

Micah scratched his head and opened a neighbouring drawer. 

"This good?" 

"Um. No. Still too big."

"What are you trying to make, a miniature cake?" 

"Well, that would be a waste. No, I'm trying to make miniature _cakes_. As in, multiple. But tiny."

Dark eyes met two mismatched ones. Catra sighed. 

"It's Entrapta's birthday tomorrow," she said and her shoulders dropped once more. She slid down onto the floor, arms wrapping around her knees instinctively, hugging herself close. When it became apparent that she wasn't getting up anytime soon, Micah lowered himself onto the floor opposite her. 

"Everyone is getting her these stupid, cute little gifts," Catra continued, watching her tail swat at thin air in front of her. "They all know each other so well and everything they do is so… _perfect._ Bow with his dumb tech gadget thingies, Adora and Glimmer with those idiotic project ideas, hell, even Wrong Hordak is getting her something goofy and meaningful Entrapta will probably love. They all know her well enough to figure out what she'll like and actually be right about it. I spent weeks together with Entrapta at the Horde and I know jack-shit about her, because I never listened, because I never spent any time getting to know her. And then I betrayed her. I sent her away and she just- she forgave me. After all that, she's forgiven me after just a few weeks and I can't even manage to make those stupid tiny cakes she likes for her birthday!"

A surprised look spread on her face as Melog licked a thin stream of tears off her cheek that Catra didn't know where flowing. She wiped them away with the palm of her hand, petting Melog's neck with her other, eyes trained at the floor. 

It stayed there though her ears perked up at the noise of clothes ruffling and footsteps against tile, then metal against metal and finally footsteps again. Then a hand swam into view and she looked up right into Micah's soft smile. 

"I think I've got an idea how to get you those tiny cakes after all. Come on." 

* * *

They sat in comfortable silence underneath one of the big ovens, Melog lying between them, enjoying the warmth and pets from two sides. 

"How does a king get into baking, anyways? Don't you have, like, minions for that?" 

"They'd be called servants," Micah corrected her with a chuckle, "but I guess you're right. It used to be an outlet. A sweet gesture to give your loved ones, something small, but heartfelt, something you'd made with your own hands. 

"Being in charge, leading an alliance into a war, albeit not alone, it's stressful. You can't allow for slip ups, they can cost you lives." His eyes were unfocused as if he were looking far away, but Catra didn't need to see him to understand the feeling. 

"With baking, though, all your accidents can be happy ones. I discovered this recipe by messing up an old one and it turned out to be an improvement."

"You improvised," Catra said. 

"Yeah, exactly," Micah answered and turned his head to find Catra already smiling at him softly. 

"Well, now I see where she gets it from." 

Before Micah could ask what she meant by that the small kitchen timer went off and Catra sprang to her feet. 

* * *

The edges of the horizon were painted in the fairest blue when they finished decorating the last of the bite-sized doughballs. A content expression on her face, Catra let her gaze sweep over the harvest of her night-time efforts. Micah laid a hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch slightly, head whipping to him. But he didn't let go and instead gave her shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze along with the brightest grin. 

"Would you look at that adorable little army. I'm sure she'll love it." 

"You think?" Catra asked, her walls not yet up after the unexpected touch. Before she could regret the display of vulnerability, Micah had already nodded with such conviction as if he'd been asked to confirm that the sun was a star. 

"Of course! You did great, kiddo, I'm really proud of you." 

He kept his eyes locked on the baked goods in front of him, granting Catra the opportunity to let his words sink in. 

"Yeah, you're totally right, I rocked this baking thing," she coaxed out after a moment and pretended her voice wasn't as thick as it sounded. Micah pretended he didn't see her brush away a tear as she reached out to pack up her present, bending down to scratch Melog's head who weaved their body through his legs. He also pretended he didn't know what that meant. 

* * *

The first beams of sunlight fell through the curtains as Catra snuck back into Adora's room, accomplished and chest full of… some funny feeling. It was something she wasn't used to feeling, but definitely good. Her eyelids were heavy though, and so she climbed into bed, Melog on her heels. Adora stirred and mumbled a few incoherent words, pulling her girlfriend into her chest without hesitation. It took only seconds for Catra to slip into a peaceful, albeit short sleep, safely tucked away in Adora's arms. In less than an hour Adora would wake and force Catra to join her and the rest of the Best Friend Sqaud at breakfast, like she did every morning. But that was a problem for Future Catra. 

* * *

"It's Emily!" Entrapta's voice cracked and reached pitches no one apart from Catra was anatomically built to hear, but it was worth it. "Emily! Come look, Catra made a bunch of little you's!" 

Like a dog, the bot came rolling over to them from where she had been standing with Scorpia, Perfuma and Frosta. Catra did her best not to hiss as Emily extended her legs outward and tapped in place like a giant spider, scanning the plate in front of her. It held about two dozen tiny cake balls staked on wooden pins, all of them coated in a layer of green sugar with small details of grey and pink painted on them to resemble Emily's face panel. The extra effort that had gone into getting the colours just right payed off when Catra watched the gleeful expression on Entrapta's face. 

Adora, Bow and Glimmer watched from across the room as Catra awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck. They were out of earshot, but it was obvious from her level of discomfort that she was delivering an apology. To the bot. What a nerd. 

"I never knew Catra can bake," Bow acknowledged, accepting a bottle of a bubbling, squeaky green liquid and eyeing it suspiciously. Glimmer offered a shrug and then passed her drink, deep purple and just as fizzy as Bow's, over to Adora who seemed to have checked out completely. Her face was something between dumbfounded and lovestruck puppy dog eyes, entirely taken in by the sight of Catra grudgingly patting her hand against Emily's top while Entrapta babbled into a recorder, scratching Melog under their chin. 

Glimmer appeared behind Entrapta, then poof'ed into existence next to Bow again before Adora even noticed she'd gone. 

"Where did-" she started, brows knitted in confusion when Glimmer held out three of the lollipop-shaped cakeletts. 

"Tada!" Glimmer chimed, eyes sparkling as she shoved one into Bow's and Adora's respective hands. 

"Glimmer, don't you think we should let Entrapta try them first? You know, seeing as it's _her_ birthday present," Adora finally fought her way out of her trance. Glimmer glowered at her in response. 

"Well, Catra made them at _my_ castle, with _my_ ingredients, so technically-" 

" _Technically,_ it's your dad's castle now." 

"Guys, guys, guys," Bow intervened before the discussion could take a more serious turn, "look!" 

Entrapta was holding several cake bites in her hair, watching Hordak and Wrong Hordak nibble on one. Wrong Hordak beamed back at her when he finished his piece, his grin rivaling the one on Entrapta's face. Hordak didn't break his gloomy appearance, but nodded politely. 

"Aha!" said Glimmer and pointed her finger at Adora who shrugged, satisfied with the conflicts resolution, and jabbed the ball at her face. 

"Enjoying your contraband, Sparkles?" Catra smirked, materialising from a cloud of smug superiority (or, well, out of Melog's magical stealth mode). The princess promptly choked on her food, leaving Bow to clap her back until she swatted his hand away, coughing. 

"When did you learn how to bake?" Adora burst out the second Glimmer's coughs had subsided, her eyes wide with excitement. "Did you know the entire time? Can you teach me??" 

"Oh, oh, me too! My dads will _love_ a surprise cake!" Bow joined in and soon they both bombarded Catra with question after question about different styles and flavours and utensils without ever actually giving her space to answer any of them. 

Meanwhile Glimmer stared down at the now empty stick in her hand, feeling herself be pulled back in time to a moment she had long forgotten. Recognition flashed in her eyes at last, a shred of a memory floating through her mind, and she looked up directly at Catra. The other girl seemed to understand right away, giving the shyest nod. 

Her friends' chatter faded into the background as Glimmer lowered her head once more, twirling the thin piece of wood between her fingers and then returning the nod with a soft smile. 

* * *

Baking, Catra mused once they were back at Bright Moon (Entrapta had announced she'd enjoyed seeing them all turn up, but now it was time for them to leave), was a fine hobby. Micah was right, there was something heartfelt about it. Something selfless in just giving things to delight and not expecting anything in return. Too bad, only, that all she knew to make were tiny bites on a stick. Seemed like she _had_ to go seek out Micah again to elicit a few more recipes, now, to widen her range. What a shame. What a damn shame, indeed. 


End file.
